


Chronic

by CupcakeOfAwesomeness



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Diabetic!Jeremy, aka the one where Jeremy has type 1 diabetes, also swearing a good bit of swearing, basically I wrote about this au on tumblr and a few people seemed to like it so here I am, squip squad, type one diabetes, uhhhh features people doing a terrible job of managing t1d
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-03-28 01:43:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13893588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupcakeOfAwesomeness/pseuds/CupcakeOfAwesomeness
Summary: Type One Diabetes is many things. Chronic. Inconvenient. Annoying. Manageable. Terrible.However, for Jeremy Heere, the worst thing it could be wasunchill.





	1. Less Than Survive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy is a terrible diabetic. Or rather, the SQUIP is a terrible diabetic advisor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! A couple things before we start:
> 
> My name's Jayce and I have type one diabetes myself! I was diagnosed at age twelve and this May will be my sixth dia-versary. I may have diabetes, but I am no expert. When they were explaining the disease to me and my parents way back in 2012, they used a lot of fancy doctor words that I wasn't familiar with and I tried my hardest NOT to pay any attention. I know exactly what I need to do to keep myself healthy, but I don't really know very much about diabetes or how it affects my body from a medical standpoint. So anything that's explained in the most vague way I could, it's because I probably didn't know or remember the thing I was explaining. But I do actually have diabetes, I just like to not know anything about it lol
> 
> I've found that people usually have no clue what diabetes is unless they are diabetic or they have a family member who is diabetic (but in most circumstances, that family member has type two diabetes, which differs from type one in several ways). The media is usually literally no help and only serves as a place where the disease is grossly misportrayed and watered down to the basics of the idea that if you have diabetes you can't eat sugar. I always love seeing diabetic![character] headcanons, especially since they're usually created by fellow T1Ds and are accurately portrayed, so I decided to contribute one of my own! I made a tumblr post of [why I thought that Jeremy would be a good candidate](http://cupcakeofawesomeness.tumblr.com/post/171572610875/are-you-ready-for-a-probably-mediocre-bmc-au) and there were a few people who added tags, saying that they thought it was a great headcanon/au thing, so I decided to post this here! 
> 
> Let's see, warning that there's a fair bit of swearing in this, which was strange to write since I don't really swear (in front of people at least lol), but I attempted to stay true to the characters. Jeremy takes terrible care of himself in this first chapter (under the SQUIP's influence), hence why I called it Less Than Survive. If you have diabetes (type one or two or pre or anything) please take care of yourself! Diabetes is such an easy disease to manage if you really try. Don't let your SQUIP tell you otherwise :)
> 
> also, uhhhh, the title may be subject to change, I really had no idea what to call this lol

Jeremy Heere had never considered the fact that having type one diabetes was not cool. He had been diagnosed with the disease at age twelve. After almost five years of finger pokes and carb counting and insulin injections, it had simply become another thing in life that you did. It was as natural as eating or going to school or even breathing. It wasn't fun and it was inconvenient as hell most of the time and he fucking _hated_ it, but it was just life and he knew for a fact that life was never fair.

But now, as the SQUIP in his head said, “ _Stop_ ,” before he could take his PDM out of his backpack, he was realizing that not only was diabetes a shitty chronic disease, it was an _unchill_ shitty chronic disease.

“ _But I need to check my blood sugar and bolus before I can eat lunch_ ,” Jeremy thought, confused as to why the supercomputer in his brain would be preventing him from taking care of himself.

“ _Not in front of Chloe or Brooke,_ ” his SQUIP said sternly.

“ _But when_ —”

“ _You can simply correct later,_ ” the SQUIP said. “ _You'll thank me._ ”

Jeremy slumped back in his seat, eyebrows furrowed in uncertainty. When he had bought the supercomputer pill the day before, he had been so ready to become more chill. To become more certain of himself and what he should do. Maybe even to become popular. Never had he considered that perhaps he would be really putting his health at risk. He probably should've—logically thinking, any sort of four hundred dollar pill given to you by a sketchy stockboy at the back of Payless that had been originally suggested to you by a school bully was probably a _major_ health risk. However, the SQUIP had helped him out so far. By a _lot_. It was a supercomputer for crying out loud. Surely it knew what it was doing.

So Jeremy forced a smile onto his face as he ate lunch with Chloe and Brooke. He tried not to think about the anxiety in his stomach or how he could feel his throat getting dry as he was sure his blood sugar increased. He ended up not finishing his lunch.

* * *

Type One Diabetes is a chronic autoimmune disease caused by the pancreas not producing enough insulin. Insulin is the principal hormone in regulating the glucose in the blood. Without insulin, the glucose will not be absorbed properly, resulting in higher blood glucose levels. Higher glucose levels can result in polyuria and polydipsia—increase in urination and increase in thirst—to name only a couple symptoms. However, too much insulin intake will result in a lower blood glucose, with its own set of symptoms.

To put it into words that Jeremy could better understand: type one was a fucking annoying disease where his pancreas just decided to give a big “FUCK YOU!” to Jeremy and stop giving him insulin. So Jeremy had to start poking his fingers every day with this weird needle poker device and then suck the blood out of his finger using another weird blood sucking device, which would somehow read the level of his blood glucose, or blood sugar. Not only that, but he had to inject insulin manually into his body to compensate for the lack of insulin his pancreas created. It sucked at first because shots are the worst, even though they were tiny needles compared to, say, a flu shot, and he needed at least four shots a day.

Within the past year, he ended up getting a brand of insulin pump called an Omnipod. It was a small device that he would fill with insulin and stick it to his arm or stomach usually. It would poke a tiny tube into him—which sounded gross, but was honestly the better alternative to a million shots every day—and he would simply do his blood sugar with his PDM, or Personal Diabetes Manager, and input the amount of carbs he was eating and it would give him the correct amount of insulin, which was called “bolusing.” It needed to be changed every few days, but, again, better than multiple injections a day.

He really tried to keep his blood sugars in check, since high and low blood sugars were both super crappy feelings. High blood sugars meant he felt abnormally thirsty and had a dry throat as long as the high blood sugar lasted and he just needed to pee a _lot_ . Low blood sugars meant he felt _really_ shaky and hungry and tired but also not tired at the same time and sometimes it would even give him a migraine. If he had to choose, he would rather a high blood sugar any day of the week.

If Jeremy had to rate diabetes on a scale of one to ten, one being a mild intolerance and ten being fucking _cancer_ , he would have to give it a solid six and a half. It definitely wasn't the worst disease he could've gotten—it wouldn't kill him if he took care of himself properly, plus he could eat basically anything he wanted, as long as he bolused for it—but it was still a huge kind of painful annoyance and he wished he could've gone his whole life being ignorant and thinking that those stupid diabetes jokes were all there was to it. (He wasn't even going to _start_ on the diabetes jokes, and how uneducated and rude they were, and how people so often got type one and type two diabetes mixed up when they actually had pretty significant differences, like how each one was caused. People were under the impression that obesity and unhealthy diet was the sole cause of diabetes when, in reality, type one was thought to be tied to genetics, while type two had a whole slew of reasons, ranging from, yes, obesity and unhealthy diet, but also age and ethnicity.) He was overall glad he had type one as opposed to cancer or celiac disease (he didn't think he'd be able to live if he couldn't eat _gluten_ , it was in fucking _everything_ ), but he still had instances where he just wished that he never had diabetes at all.

Today was one of those times.

* * *

“I feel like shit, ugh, I am so fucking high, I am so fucking high,” Jeremy muttered, as he dashed to the water fountain before play rehearsal. He lapped at the water as it gave his inexplicably dry throat a short release. He _needed_ to bolus for his lunch.

“You're high?”

Jeremy's head whipped around to see Jenna Rolan standing behind him. He wasn't sure whether she was judging him or if she was impressed. “Ah, no, not that kind of high, I was just uh...”

“ _Excited for play rehearsal,_ ” the SQUIP offered.

“Excited for play rehearsal? Like, high as in excited,” Jeremy clarified.

“Too bad,” Jenna said, brushing past him. Her eyes were back on her phone as she walked past and Jeremy silently pleaded that she wasn't spreading a rumour that he had been high at school.

“ _She isn't_.”

“ _How do you know?_ ” Jeremy retaliated.

“ _A student coming to school high isn't interesting enough and being excited for play rehearsal_ definitely _isn't_.”

“ _Good, I guess_.” Jeremy reached his hand into his backpack to grab his PDM and finally bolus for his lunch, but he felt a shock jolt through his body. “Ow!”

“ _Jeremy, you need to get to rehearsal_ ,” the SQUIP said. “ _If you still want to win Christine's heart, you need to appear invested in her interests. That means not arriving late._ ”

“ _But I really need to_ —”

“ _Do you want this girl or not?_ ”

Jeremy was starting to wonder if the question was whether or not he wanted Christine or whether or not he valued her over his personal health, but slung his backpack over his shoulder again and headed towards the drama classroom.

* * *

The SQUIP had finally disappeared for the moment. Jeremy needed some time to process without an extra voice in his head. So, his SQUIP had “predicted” the death of Eminem in order to get Brooke to want to date Jeremy? But the reason it wanted Jeremy to date Brooke was so it would boost his popularity so he could inevitably break up with her to go date Christine, who would be into him if he was popular? But he still wasn’t allowed to do his blood sugar or bolus, so he would have to try to hide it from Brooke if they dated, which meant even more high blood sugars. Not to mention what would happen by the time Jeremy needed to change his insulin pump—he didn’t even want to think about that. He grabbed his head in confusion as he rounded the corner to bump into—

“Michael?” Jeremy’s face lit up and he breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, someone he could be himself around. “Where’ve you been all day?”

“Oh really?” Michael practically spat the words at him. “I thought you were the one avoiding me.”

“Why would I avoid you? I haven’t even _seen_ you since—” Jeremy stopped mid-sentence, suddenly realizing what had happened. He hadn’t even noticed Michael since he had gotten the SQUIP, which was incredibly strange considering Michael always had his signature hoodie and headphones on. “ _Reactivate_ ,” he thought angrily.

“ _It’s called Optic Nerve Blocking._ ”

“ _What?_ ”

“ _I have been blocking Michael from your field of vision_ ,” the SQUIP said simply.

“ _Why?!_ ”

“Uh, Jer?” Michael waved a hand in front of Jeremy’s face. “You low or something?”

“ _Michael is a link to Jeremy 1.0. To upgrade, you have to be willing to make sacrifices._ ”

“Seriously, what is _up_ with you? You’ve been acting shady ever since...! Since...” Michael’s expression changed as it dawned on him. “It worked, didn’t it? Jeremy, that’s amazing!” Michael began bouncing around excitedly. “We gotta test it out! No, we gotta celebrate! We gotta... get stoned in my basement!”

Jeremy didn’t move. He contemplated the SQUIP’s words. He was more popular than he had ever been before. (Except for perhaps the time when he was away from school for two weeks in sixth grade when he was diagnosed with diabetes; nobody except Michael and his teachers had found out the truth behind Jeremy’s absence, and the rumours varied from vacation to his house burning down to death. He still wasn’t sure why people had cared about the rumours so much, especially since nobody had really known who he was at the time. To this day, he’s positive nobody even knows that he was the same Jeremy Heere as the one kid who went missing for two weeks when they were twelve.) He actually had a girl openly express that she was interested in _him_ , plus, according to his SQUIP, he had a fighting chance at dating Christine in the future. He wasn’t second-guessing his every action, since he now had someone to tell him exactly what to do. Sure, he felt like crap today, but he would correct his blood sugars when he got home. He would survive. In fact, he would _more_ than survive.

He looked up at Michael. His best friend. But... not his _only_ friend. Not anymore.

Michael’s happy expression was fading a bit. “Jer? Come on, I’ll even get those new flavours of diet coke you like!”

Jeremy had already experienced being a loser. He had been a loser for twelve years. It was about time he got a new experience.

“Optic Nerve Blocking: on.”

And Michael was gone.

* * *

His omnipod started beeping loudly at lunch a few days later. Everyone at the table began to reach for their phones (“Wait, this isn't even my ringtone,” Chloe said in confusion) and Jeremy went red, knowing the noise was coming from him, or more accurately, the device on his stomach. He couldn't just let it beep for the whole period, so he mumbled, “Ah, that's my, uh, I have to take this? I'll be right back,” and he dashed off to the bathroom before anyone could say a word.

He was finally able to pull out his PDM and held the home button. _Change pod now._ The godforsaken beeping had ceased, but the SQUIP's voice was now ringing in his ears.

“ _Jeremy, your pump will last another eight hours after expiration. Do not change it until you get home._ ”

“ _But,_ ” Jeremy protested, “ _I'm not supposed to be completely off of insulin for that long! Even when I don't bolus for food, there's a steady long-acting basal going through me. I could just change it here, in the bathroom. I'll even put the new one on my stomach again so it's not noticeable! I should really_ —”

“ _Anyone could walk in at any moment. You cannot risk that. You can and_ will _last until you go home._ ”

Jeremy sighed, stuffing his PDM back into his bag. The SQUIP was _right_ , of course. He would be able to last until school was over. He supposed it was easier to change his pod in the comfort of his own home anyways. It would be easier, he would be fine, and he would still be chill. That's all that mattered, right?

* * *

Play rehearsal was easy since he had the SQUIP, who helped him remember and convey his lines perfectly. However, Christine seemed to have somehow noticed that there was something up with Jeremy this particular day. He didn't know how she had realized as they still weren't particularly close, but she did.

He had been swallowing an excessive amount—something he did in a feeble attempt to cleanse him of his dry throat—and she had said, “Hey, Jeremy? Are you okay?”

“ _Of course I am,_ ” the SQUIP prompted.

“Of course I am,” Jeremy said with a smile. Christine was still frowning.

“You've just been swallowing an awful lot, so I was just wondering if you were nervous or feeling sick or—”

“I'm fine, I promise,” Jeremy assured her, still smiling confidently.

“Well... Just tell me if you ever want to talk, you know?” she said, with a caring smile in return.

His smile slipped from confidence to admiration. Christine was so sweet. She genuinely cares about people and noticed the small things. Just another reason to be attracted to her.

“Jeremy!” Jake Dillinger appeared by his side. Jake had somehow ended up as his friend through Rich, who had somehow ended up his friend through the SQUIP. He still felt wary about hanging around two kids who bullied him for years. “So,” Jake continued, wrapping his arm around Jeremy, “I'm having this huge Halloween party this week! You should totally come!”

“Oh, I'll definitely be there!” Jeremy said, giving the fist bump Jake was prompting him for.

“Awesome! It'll be cool to have you there!” Then Jake turned to Christine. “Hey, Chris! I'm having this huge party...”

Jeremy felt his stomach drop slightly. A Halloween party meant lots of sugary food, alcohol, and sex. Sugary food, which he should bolus for but probably won't be allowed to. Alcohol, which he should also probably bolus for and probably be careful with, considering it could not only get him drunk, but it might give him a delayed low blood sugar and a low was different from a high in the sense that he _definitely_ had to treat it right away. But also, he was a virgin and who knew if sex could mess with his blood sugars or not? Plus what about his insulin pump, he couldn't just hide his pod the whole time.

He felt a slight jolt go through his body and he tried his best to make sure nobody noticed. His SQUIP had taken to shocking him when he got anxious, as a way to remind him that the SQUIP knew best and would handle everything. So Jeremy settled back into his seat as Mr. Reyes got back from his second hot pocket break, trying to leave his worries about the party to the side.

* * *

Jeremy panted as he leaned against the bathroom door. “Fuck, fuck, fuck...” He locked the door and crashed by the bathtub. He raked a shaky hand through his hair. “Fuck it all, fucking shit, what the fuck,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “Am I high or low? What the fuck? Fuck, fuck, fuck...”

He had just escaped from the bedroom with Chloe where they were definitely _not_ having sex. She had tried, and his SQUIP had tried to force him to go along with it, but the worse they ended up doing was making out. However, Chloe had made both Jake _and_ Brooke believe they were having sex. In Jake’s parents’ room. Now Jake was furious, Brooke was heartbroken, and Chloe was probably mad that he hadn’t actually done anything with her besides his SQUIP forcing him to kiss her. He had run away to escape Jake’s wrath and now he was locked up in a bathroom alone, feeling like shit for more reasons than one.

“Fuck, I didn’t bring my blood sugar,” Jeremy sighed, leaning back and rubbing his hands down his face. “Fuck it all.”

As he stared at the ceiling, a hand that resembled some sort of lagoon monster reached out of the bathtub to grab Jeremy's shoulder. He screamed in a very unchill way, before gasping when Michael pulled himself forwards, with a small, “Sup?”

“ _Michael_? I didn't know you were invited to this party.”

“I wasn't.” Michael pulled himself to his feet, revealing that he was wearing a costume(?) covered in empty cans and aquatic claws. “That's why I'm wearing this _clever_ disguise.” He unzipped the strange costume and got out of the tub. “Speechless. _SQUIP_ got your tongue?”

Jeremy shook his head slowly. “No, it's... it's off.”

“That would explain why you're talking to me. Recognizing my _existence_ .” Michael huffed. “You know, I had this whole pissed off monologue. ' _An Epic Journey Through Twelve Years of Friendship_ ’. It was going to have some hard-hitting evidence of why you shouldn't have just blown off our bond and...” Michael trailed off as he glimpsed Jeremy's face. “What?”

“I’m just... I'm just so glad to see you, man,” Jeremy admitted, a smile creeping into his face.

Michael didn't return the grin. “Well, you won't be. Not when I tell you what I found out.”

“Found out?” Jeremy was still feeling completely shitty and found it hard to focus on what Michael was saying.

“About...” Michael tapped the side of Jeremy's head. “Your fucking Siri in there.”

Jeremy's eyebrows furrowed. “But how, there's nothing on the internet—”

“ _Which is weird_ , right?” Michael interrupted. “I mean, what's _not_ on the internet? How is it _possible_ that it's not there? But I started asking around about it and finally, this guy I play Warcraft with, he told me how his brother went from a straight D student to a freshman at Harvard.” Jeremy's eyes widened a bit. “You know where he is now?”

“Diagnosed with diabetes?”

“Close. He's in a mental hospital.” Jeremy swore he stopped breathing for a moment when Michael said this. "Totally lost it.”

“I—I don't see what this has to do with—”

“ _Think, man_ !” Michael shouted. “We're talking an _insanely_ powerful supercomputer! You think its primary function is to get you _laid_ ? _Who made them_ ? What are they doing in a _high school_ ? _IN NEW JERSEY_ ?” Michael made a sort of huffing noise and added, “Of all the possible applications for such a _mind-blowingly advanced_ technology, you ever wonder what it's doing inside of _YOU_?”

Jeremy felt a jab of fury. What Michael was saying... made sense. But the SQUIP had already helped Jeremy out so much. Sure, right now he wasn't doing so hot, but he finally had _friends_ . He was _popular_. He was on his way to getting the girl of his dreams. The SQUIP couldn't be as bad as Michael was claiming. Why would he try to convince Jeremy that he was such an unworthy person to have a SQUIP, unless...

“And I thought Chloe was jealous,” Jeremy muttered.

“I'm honestly asking,” Michael said.

“Really? Cause I think you're just _pissed_ that _I_ have one and _you_ don't.”

Michael had the audacity to roll his eyes here. “Come _on_ —”

“Maybe I just got _lucky_ , is that such an issue for you? Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I _deserve_ this in my life? Friendless Jeremy, the _loser_ who has a _fucking chronic disease_ that he just has to _live with_ his whole life, finally gets a bit of good luck and, oh no, this thing isn't good for him.” Jeremy wasn't even processing what he was saying anymore, he was just so upset.

“Friendless, huh?” Michael swallowed and bit his lip. “Friendless.” He balled his hands into fists. “You didn't even have _one_ friend, huh? Not even one who, I don't know, stuck by you your whole life and supported you in all your endeavours and tried his best to help with your stupid disease and wished that you didn't need to suffer so much and tried so FUCKING HARD to be a good friend for _you_ ! Yeah, maybe Michael Mell doesn't have as many woes as fucking Jeremy Heere, but dammit if Michael Mell isn't a fucking human being with his own thoughts and feelings as well! As if Michael Mell isn't trying to be a good friend and warn his _only friend of twelve years_ about how this fucking SQUIP is going to kill him!”

“My SQUIP isn't going to kill me—”

“Oh really?” Michael let out a watery laugh. “You haven't done your blood sugar or bolused at school _at all_ . You didn't even _bring_ your blood glucometer tonight. Please. Your SQUIP doesn't even have to try that hard to kill you.”

“My SQUIP _isn't_ going to kill me _or_ make me crazy, like your friend's brother's whatever—”

“His SQUIP didn't make him crazy.”

“There you go then—”

“ _He went crazy trying to get it out_!”

Jeremy could only feel fury bubbling up inside him. He didn't even care about the words Michael was spewing right now, no matter how true they may or may not be. He was just so angry that his friend would try to force him to get rid of something that had done him so much _good_ . Maybe his blood sugars were out of whack, so what? It's not like it would actually kill him. It took a _lot_ to actually die from diabetes and Jeremy wasn't _stupid_ and neither was his SQUIP. The only thing that mattered was that he wasn't a nobody anymore. He was valued and important. He mattered for _once in his life_ and Michael Mell couldn't ruin that for him.

“Get out of my way, _loser_.”

* * *

Jeremy woke up in a hospital bed. He groaned and abruptly tried to sit up as he remembered everything that had happened during the play. His blood sugar had been who-knows-what, probably skyrocketed through the roof or maybe the floor, he hadn’t even been able to tell anymore. Not only that, but Christine had rejected him, so he had finally gotten his stupid _stupid_ head out of his ass and realized that maybe the SQUIP wasn't really such a great thing. Worse still, the SQUIP had already taken matters into his own hands and had begun to SQUIP the entire cast. Everyone was against him, he had felt like he was dying, and the only way to deactivate the SQUIP was through a discontinued nineties soft drink that only Michael would be able to find, and there was _no chance_ Michael would talk to him again after their whole confrontation in the bathroom. But miraculously, even though Jeremy was probably the last person who had ever deserved it, Michael had made an entrance with Mountain Dew Red in hand. Everything else was a blur—he had been so out of it, his blood sugars had been so crazy.

He tried to move his right hand but it was throbbing with pain. An IV was pumping something into his hand; judging from the look of it and the _smell_ , it was insulin. He rubbed his head with his free hand, letting out another groan. Silence felt foreign and empty. He had only had the SQUIP for a month, perhaps two, and he still felt like a huge part of him had vanished and it... hurt. He hated that it hurt him. There was a sense of relief too, but the pain was still there.

“Feels like you're missing a part of yourself, doesn't it?” Jeremy jerked his head to the left and saw Rich, in a full body cast, on the bed next to him. He spoke in a lisp, which Jeremy had never heard, but he supposed that, like his own diabetes, Rich's SQUIP probably forbade him from speaking in a lisp. Rich gave Jeremy a sympathetic smile. “Hurts like a motherfucker too. Not just physically.” Jeremy nodded, glancing down at his hands. “I get it. But...” Rich's smile softened the slightest bit. “It'll get better, tall-ass.”

Jeremy gave Rich a confused smile. Rich had somehow turned his usual jab towards Jeremy into an endearment. “And yours is...?”

“Yeah,” Rich said, his grin evolving into its final form: the happiest smile Jeremy might've ever seen. “I'm finally free from that shiny happy hive mind! When I get out of here, the ladies are gonna learn to love the _real_ Richard Goranski!” He seemed to have an epiphany and added, “And the dudes...” He gasped. “Oh my gosh, I'm totally _bi!_ ”

“Wait, how is yours gone too? Did you find more Mountain Dew Red?” Jeremy asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Then he quickly added, “Uh, I mean, congrats on the revelation too, but your SQUIP—”

“Ask your buddy,” Rich said. “Anti-social headphones kid? He's been by, like, _a ton_ by the way. Is he your boyfriend?” When Jeremy went red, Rich added, “No judgement! Just curious. Totally bi now.”

“You know, I am so pissed that I wasn't the first person to talk to you after you woke up.”

Jeremy's eyes lit up when he saw Michael standing in the doorway. “Michael!”

“That's what I get for taking a bathroom break, geez,” Michael joked, sitting on the edge of Jeremy's bed. “How’re you doing, buddy?”

“I'm sorry!” Jeremy blurted, eager to mend what little friendship he and Michael might have left. “I was a complete asshole and I ignored you and your feelings and I hurt you and—”

“Dude, it's okay,” Michael said. “You already said sorry during the play and I know it was all because of that angry tic tac in your head—”

“But in the bathroom, it was off and I said so many terrible things, Michael!” Jeremy protested. “You were just trying to help me and I was so _mean._ And I _knew_ you were right and I purposefully hurt you anyways! I'm just so sorry and I—”

“Jeremy.” Michael lightly touched Jeremy's hands. “I forgive you. Now!” He rubbed his hands together excitedly. “I hear you wanted to hear about how the SQUIPs were deactivated!”

“Yeah, what happened?” Jeremy asked, racking his brain for answers. “I think I remember giving Christine the Mountain Dew Red, but there wasn't enough left for everyone. Unless there was some miraculous Jesus shit.”

“I _wish_ , that would've been more interesting a story,” Michael joked in response. “But it was really interesting from a scientific standpoint! Basically, all of the SQUIPs were linked, so, destroy one, and the rest are gone too!”

“Wow,” Jeremy breathed. “That's... intense. No wonder my head hurts so much.”

“Ah, yeah, there's probably another reason for that,” Michael said. “When you came in, your blood sugar was in the _thirties_.”

Jeremy stared at Michael in shock. He had known that it had been bad, but he hadn't been above twenty since he was first diagnosed _over four years ago_. No wonder he needed an IV  “Wow,” was all he could muster.

“Yeah,” Michael agreed. “I think the exact number was thirty-six point nine or something, I can't remember. It was... crazy.”

“Uh.” Rich had been surprisingly quiet during this whole exchange, but now he spoke up in a confused tone. “I don't want to interrupt, but, uh, what's a blood sugar?”

Jeremy fidgeted nervously. He was finally allowed to be open with his diabetes. There was nothing holding him back. This was the perfect moment to tell Rich the secret he had kept throughout the past couple months. Still, he felt really anxious about telling anybody. The SQUIP had really drilled it into his head that diabetes was _unchill_ and that everyone would hate him and shun him and bully him for having this chronic disease. He knew that probably wasn't true—after all, it wasn't his fault he got diabetes, it was just stupid genetics—but Rich had bullied him for _years_ and it felt even more nerve-wracking to tell him anything that could potentially be fuel for his harassment.

“I have type one diabetes,” Jeremy blurted, ripping off the band-aid and squeezing his eyes tightly shut as he awaited Rich's response.

“Uh?”

Oh right. Most people didn't know what diabetes really was. “It's this chronic disease,” Jeremy explained. “It’s kinda complicated and hard to describe, but basically, my pancreas stopped producing insulin so I have to manually give myself synthetic insulin and poke my fingers to check my blood sugar, which has to be within a certain range, and I have to kinda watch what I eat.”

“You said a lot of words I'm unfamiliar with?” Rich said with a bewildered laugh. “So I have a lot of questions still. But I'll try to understand!”

Jeremy tilted his head—surprised, yet pleased. He exchanged a look with Michael and Michael shrugged. Neither of them had expected Rich to change so drastically so quickly after his SQUIP was gone, though, when Jeremy thought about it, it made sense. The SQUIP was so inhibiting. It forced you to act a certain way and wouldn't let you be your genuine self. Jeremy was eager to get back to his very unchill flaws and strengths; he was sure Rich was too. Maybe Rich’s genuine self was interested in learning about type one diabetes. Who was Jeremy to prevent him from learning?

“What questions do you have, Rich?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this silly au/headcanon I made! This is just the first part, which is set during the musical timeline. The next chapter will be Jeremy telling everyone in the Squip Squad about his diabetes and everyone getting used to it. I'm not sure if there will be any chapters after that, but I suppose we'll see if inspiration hits me :)
> 
> Also, before you all start saying that the SQUIP is a supercomputer and would know better than to neglect Jeremy's health, first of all, the SQUIP's job is to help Jeremy become popular and diabetes isn't popular so he wouldn't care, also, technically, the SQUIP only prevented Jeremy from taking care of himself when he was around the kids at school. Having a high blood sugar is different to a low one, as you need to treat lows right away, but you can survive being high for a while. Trust me, sometimes I'm a terrible diabetic and just decide to eat sixteen oreos without bolusing (I may have diabetes but what I don't have is self-control)(Do not take after my example, just bolus for your oreos, kids) and I feel like crap for a while until I correct later, but I haven't died or been sent to the hospital so I will still do it lol but my point is that Jeremy would definitely survive even if he took crap care of himself for a while, as long as he was correcting his blood sugar later, which I kind of implied he was. I mean, his A1C would probably be terrible, but you know. 
> 
> Also!!! I mentioned it in the fic but I'll mention it again: Jeremy uses an Omnipod! It's a brand of insulin pump, which I've used for over a year at this point, and it's really helpful! It's a little device that you fill with a bunch of insulin and attach to somewhere on your body (I tend to go for stomach or arms, but legs and lower back work too; my doctors all say "if you can pinch an inch, you can put your pod there"). It gives you a steady rate of insulin throughout the day (a basal rate) and then you can use your PDM (Personal Diabetes Manager) to add extra insulin for the food you eat (to give yourself insulin using a pump is called bolusing). You have to change it every three days (less if you use a ton of insulin) and I usually decorate mine with pump peelz (expensive, but cool, sticker you can decorate your pump with) or cool duct tape lol it's very helpful and greatly decreases the amount of needles you use in a day, which is always a plus. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! I know it's weird and probably not super relatable for most of you, but this sort of representation is important to me and it was fun to write :) People can always use more diabetes education, considering that by 2010, over 2.7 million Canadians have a form of diabetes (and it's estimated to rise to 4.2 million but 2020!), and in 2014, the United States already had over 29 MILLION, plus 1 in 4 people didn't even know! There's a high chance you know someone with some type of diabetes, whether or not they know it themselves, and I think it's always important to be educated! :) I hope you enjoyed this silly fic, feel free to leave a kudos or a comment! It would make my day :)


	2. Lunch is Banging (Out Answers to Many Questions)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy reveals to the Squip Squad that he has type one, they try to understand, Jeremy reminisces, they ask many MANY questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! Chapter two is here! (or should I say... _Heere_ XD)
> 
> Mmmm a couple notes:
> 
> This chapter is a lot of diabetes explanation and not much else. I tried my best to keep everyone in character but there wasn't really a manual on how to write the Squip Squad when confronted by diabetes?? I tried :) 
> 
> The next chapter will be more of Jeremy interacting one-on-one with people, so hopefully it'll be better :)

Jeremy took a week off of school. He was allowed home from the hospital the next day—with lectures from a pediatric endocrinologist, a dietitian, another pediatrician, and several doctors who never told him their specialty, and many promises that he would take better care of himself—but neither his father nor Michael would let him go back to school. As much as he promised he was okay, they wanted him to rest and keep his blood sugars in check. Michael also wanted Jeremy to take a bit of time to get used to being without SQUIP again before being thrust back into the social setting. 

It was harder than Jeremy thought it would be, getting back into the regular diabetes routine. His finger pokes hurt more than usual, he had forgotten the carbohydrates of several foods he usually ate, and it stung when he bolused for food. More than that, he still felt...  _ off _ about doing all his diabetes necessities. He was nervous about it and it felt  _ wrong _ . He had to psych himself up to poke his finger and change his omnipod, anticipating immense pain that was always just falsely advertised. He constantly forgot to do his blood sugar or bolus for food, or both, until he was almost or already finished eating. He felt self-conscious whenever he had to google the carbs for food. It was like he was twelve again. 

It helped that Michael came over every day after school. He had always been more on top of Jeremy's life than Jeremy had ever been, even before the whole SQUIP invaded. He reminded Jeremy to check his blood sugar at appropriate times and bolus for the food he needed to and was all for helping with the carb counting. He brought over a different one of Jeremy's favourite diet pops every day and made sure he knew the carbs on whatever snacks he brought. Then, he and Jeremy would play video games or watch movies or just hang out and laugh together until Michael either had to go home or, if he stayed the night, until they were so tired that they collapsed. It was fun and distracting and Jeremy was already happier than he had ever been in the past two months. 

The first day Michael had come over, he had been ladened with gifts from their peers. Apparently, after the incident at the play, all the teenagers who had ingested a SQUIP had a strange connection. Out of nowhere, Brooke, Chloe, Christine, Jake, Jenna, Jeremy, and Rich were all friends. (Michael was included in this group as well, since everyone recognized that Michael wasn't just Jeremy's friend, he was actually a pretty cool person.) Brooke had given Jeremy a thoughtful card and a bouquet filled with green roses (which, she explained in the card, according to google, meant wishes for recovery of good health), Christine had given him an even longer card than Brooke's and a box of chocolates, and Jake had given Michael a message to relay to him (“Uh, he said he's sorry about the Halloween party and the play and the off-handed comments over the years and, well, the list goes on.”). Michael had added a final gift on the pile from himself: a few new pump peelz, a blue-beaded bracelet that reminded him of Jeremy, and a new video game. (“You know, you didn't need to—” “I wanted to. You've been through a lot, Jer.”)

He wasn't fully healed after the incident. The SQUIP had been a toxic, abusive computer program, that had been living inside of Jeremy's head, commenting on his every move. It had dealt out physical and emotional harm every day and Jeremy had thought it was  _ okay. _ He wasn't going to be able to completely go back to normal for a long time. But taking care of his diabetes again was a good start. 

* * *

Once he was back at school, he took another two weeks of getting used to having five more friends (six, if Rich had been out of the hospital yet) before he finally let them know he had diabetes. Not that he went to the lengths to hide it that he did when he was SQUIPed—he just did his blood sugar and bolused in the bathroom for a little while. He just wanted to get used to being an actual good friend to these people who he was such a jerk to before. After those two weeks, once he was almost sure that they genuinely wanted to be friends with the real him and that they probably wouldn’t make fun of him, he prepared himself to confess to having type one.

The following Monday, he had worn his insulin pump on his right arm, a proud bump under his sweater. He had plans at lunch to sit with the “Squip Squad" (as Michael had begun to dub them) and then take off his sweater, making his Omnipod painfully obvious. As soon as everyone was seated, he would do his blood sugar and bolus and hopefully by that point somebody would ask about it. Then he, probably with some help from Michael, would do his best to explain his disease to his newfound friends. 

He still felt nervous.  _ Really  _ nervous. Telling one person alone made him nervous, but  _ five _ ? He might as well die now. Since he had never really had any friends besides Michael for the past twelve years, he wasn’t used to having to actually tell people about his disease. It had been hard for him to even tell  _ Michael  _ at first. He remembered that day he went to Michael’s house after he had first been diagnosed...

* * *

_ “Michael?” _

_ Jeremy was twelve and more nervous than he had ever been to stand on his best friend's front porch. Michael looked at him happily—happier than Jeremy had imagined he would be. In fact, Michael was so happy that he flung himself on to Jeremy in a tight embrace.  _

_ “Jeremy! You're back, you're back!” Michael clung to Jeremy for a few moments before letting go. “What  _ happened _? You've been gone a whole week! Longer even!” _

_ “I—yeah, that's what I—” Jeremy cleared his throat, staring down at his shoes and fidgeting with his sleeves. “That's what I need to talk to you about...” _

_ Michael's smile dropped off of his face in an instant, replaced with a worried expression. “What happened?” _

_ Jeremy continued staring at his shoes. They had become very interesting all of a sudden. His left shoe was untied, leaving the laces splayed over his feet. He would have to tie that. He could tie it now, to delay the inevitable. But that was the problem about inevitable things—you could put them off as long as you wanted and they would still happen.  _

_ He wasn't sure why he was so nervous. This was Michael. His best friend since forever! Michael, who wore heelys and brightly coloured braces and would swear in Tagalog so that teachers couldn't really get after him. Michael, who had learned to skateboard and who sang songs loudly on the bus and who liked to watch old shows that his dad used to watch. Maybe that was the exact reason why he was nervous. If Michael left, he would have no one. If Michael left, he wouldn't know what to do. If Michael left— _

_ But Michael wouldn't leave. Michael, who had helped put on all of the band-aids that Jeremy had ever needed. Michael, who taught Jeremy to play video games. Michael, who didn't care that he and Jeremy were losers. Michael, who was Jeremy's best friend. Michael, who liked Jeremy for just being  _ Jeremy _.  _

_ “Should we go to my room or something?” Michael asked hesitantly.  _

_ Jeremy nodded, still not looking up. Nervous had become an understatement. He was  _ terrified _. This shouldn't be a terrifying thing. It was normal. Well, somewhat normal. Michael was his best friend and would not judge him. But... what if he did?  _

_ They sat across from each other on Michael's bedroom floor. Michael stared intensely at Jeremy. A scared sort of intense. Jeremy picked at threads on the carpet.  _ Start slow _.  _

_ “Do you remember how I was super thirsty before?” Jeremy asked, trying to stay calm.  _

_ “Yeah, I mean, you brought  _ three _ water bottles to school and would refill them,” Michael laughed. Then he stopped. “Wait, why? Can too much water kill you?” _

_ “I—that’s not what I'm saying,” Jeremy mumbled, shuffling his feet around. Michael sounded so worried.  _ Breathe _. “My dad took me to the doctor to ask about it and...” He swallowed, slowly bringing his eyes up to meet Michael's. Their expressions mirrored each other—fear. “I'm just gonna say it!” Jeremy announced, tired of being scared. “I'm afraid of what you'll think, but...” _

_ “You don't need to be!” Michael assured him quickly. “I'm by your side all the way!” _

_ Jeremy took in a deep breath and said, “I have type one diabetes.” _

_ “ _ Die _ -abetes?” Michael yelped, suddenly even more scared than before. “Does that mean you're gonna die?!” _

_ “No,” Jeremy said, almost laughing. Of  _ course _ , that's the first thing Michael would think. “If I take care of myself properly, I'll be fine.” _

_ “Okay,” Michael sighed with relief. Then he hesitated before adding, “So, uh, what exactly is type one diabetes then?” _

_ “It's a disease,” Jeremy explained. “There's a lot to know—I don't even know everything yet. It's caused because my pancreas stopped producing insulin, which helps us digest food or something, I don't know exactly.” Jeremy frowned. “And it's chronic.” _

_ “Chronic...” Michael echoed quietly. “That, uh, that means forever, doesn't it?” _

_ “Yeah...” Jeremy mumbled, glancing back down at the carpet. “I have to have shots every day now and finger pokes and I have to be more careful with what I eat and I feel sick all the time and—and—it just really sucks!” _

_ Michael stared at him with a sorrowful expression as he said all of this, but then his expression shifted to one of determination and he moved over to sit right next to Jeremy. “Well,” he said, “if you're stuck with diabetes, then I guess you'll just have to be stuck with me too.” He grinned looping his arm around Jeremy's shoulders. “There's a new chronic disease in your life and he's called Michael.” _

_ Jeremy laughed, though tears were in his eyes. “You are the best friend I've ever had.” _

* * *

Back in the present, it was lunchtime and Jeremy was fidgeting anxiously. His sweater was tied around his waist and his pod, which sported a silly pump peel that announced “I’M PUMPED” (Jeremy had laughed when Michael had given it to him), was now definitely visible on his arm. He had his blood sugar on the table beside his tray of food as he waited for the others to arrive. He had plans, and he was nervous, but he had plans. It would be fine.

Michael sat next to him, munching on a sandwich and bobbing his head as he listened to something (perhaps Bob Marley, or possibly the Jackson 5, or maybe a song sung in Tagalog). He had sacrificed his usual 7/11 run so he could be sure that he was here with Jeremy before the others arrived. Jeremy would normally make a joke about how much Michael had sacrificed for him, but honestly it did mean a lot to have him here. Not to mention he had essentially saved Jeremy's life at the play by bringing the Mountain Dew Red. He couldn’t help but bump his shoulder against Michael’s, as a soft recognition of how much he appreciated Michael. Michael smiled softly and nudged him back. 

A sudden chorus of “Jeremy!”s rang out and the five people Jeremy had been waiting for arrived. Jake slid into the seat across from Michael (with the help of Jenna, who held his crutches), with Chloe and Brooke slotting beside him. Jenna plopped herself down on Michael’s left, and Christine sat on Jeremy’s right. Operation “Type One Disclosure” was ready to commence. Jeremy calmly began to open up his blood glucometer and prepare it to check his blood sugar.

Christine immediately noticed Jeremy’s omnipod and said, “Yeah, I’m pumped too!!” and gestured for an elated high-five before adding in bewilderment, “Wait, why are you pumped? And why is this, uh,” she motioned towards his pod, coming up with no proper word to describe it, “on your arm?”

“Also,  _ what  _ are you doing, bro?” Jake asked, watching Jeremy prepare his blood sugar in confusion. “Is that a needle?”

“Uh, yeah, it is,” Jeremy said, “and this thing on my arm is my Omnipod.”

“Omni- _ what _ ?” Chloe looked up from her phone just in time to see Jeremy poke his finger and squeeze out the blood. “ _ EUGH JEREMY WHAT ARE YOU DOING? _ ”

Now everyone was staring at him as he sucked the blood up into his PDM and it beeped, flashing a number at him.  _ Six point eight _ . Great, that meant this overwhelming shakiness he was feeling was just anxiety and not a low blood sugar. He looked up at everyone and said, “Uh, so, when I was SQUIPed, I wasn’t allowed to tell you guys, but I have type one diabetes.”

“ _ How? _ ” Jake asked, looking Jeremy up and down in befuddlement. “Isn’t diabetes, like, when you’re really fat?”

“No,” Jeremy said, “that’s actually a really detrimental stereotype...”

“Oh, my grandpa had diabetes,” Brooke piped up. “You just can’t eat any sugar, right?”

“No,” Jeremy said, “I can eat sugar, I just have to—”

“Wait, wait,” Chloe asked, with a humourless look on her face, “DIE-abetes? Are you  _ dying _ , Jeremy?”

“Guys!” Michael yelled, silencing everyone at the table. “Let Jeremy explain! Like, calm down,  _ geez _ .” He glanced at Jeremy, and murmured, “Do you want me to do the talking or are you good?”

“I’m good,” Jeremy whispered back, so grateful to have a friend like Michael. Then he raised his voice to address the other five surrounding him. “It’s complicated and hard to understand right away and you guys are gonna be left with a lot more questions for a while, but basically, type one diabetes is a chronic disease. It’s caused because my pancreas isn’t producing any insulin anymore, which means that I need to give myself synthetic insulin to help properly digest the food I eat. Uh, that’s not a perfect explanation, but I’ll try my best to answer your questions.” Christine raised her hand and Jeremy smiled fondly. “You don’t have to raise your hand, Chris.”

“How did you get diabetes?” she asked, gesticulating as she spoke. “And when?”

“Well,” Jeremy hummed, “right now, type one diabetes is thought to be tied to genetics, but my parents don’t actually know which of my family members kinda ‘passed down’ the disease to me, heh. But, uh, a lot of people get it confused with type two diabetes, which is actually very different in how it’s caused. I mean, not that different, but type one is usually developed as a child and type two is usually developed as an adult, and type two has a whole bunch more causes. While, yeah, obesity, unhealthy diet, and sedentary habits are a few of the more well-known causes, there’s also age, race, and genetics. And none of those things except for genetics have anything to do with type one. That’s one reason I hate those stupid diabetes jokes so much, they’re always inaccurate and pretty rude. But, uh, anyways, I was diagnosed at twelve.”

“Oh shit,” Jake muttered, “I’ve made a  _ lot  _ of diabetes jokes over the years.” 

“Yeah, I punched you over one once,” Michael laughed. “Do you remember that?”

“Oh  _ shit! _ I didn’t even know that was you!”

“You never knew us before this year,” Jeremy said, grinning as he recalled the memory of them at fourteen.

* * *

_ Eighth grade band class had decided to have a small party to promote their upcoming concert, so Jeremy and Michael had gone down to the band room to snag some snacks. There was a long table that was covered with baked goods and posters about the concert. The two boys had already begun filling up their paper plates with more treats than necessary. _

_ “Look at these cupcakes, man!” Jeremy laughed, picking one up. “They're, like, drowning in icing.” _

_ “That would kill a man,” Michael agreed solemnly. “I'm gonna have ten.” _

_ They laughed together until a new voice joined their conversation, “Yeah, that would  _ so _ give you diabetes!” _

_ Jake Dillinger, a popular jock, stood behind them with a laugh. Jeremy shifted uncomfortably. Diabetes jokes always made him uncomfortable, especially since they were usually really inaccurate and frankly quite rude. Michael knew this and he knew that Jeremy was too anxious to say anything about it.  _

_ “No it won't,” Michael said firmly.  _

_ “What'd you say?” Jake asked, obviously off-put by Michael's tone.  _

_ “A cupcake can't give you diabetes,” Michael said slowly, his voice filling with anger. “That's really stupid.” _

_ “Michael, it's okay, really,” Jeremy said, grabbing Michael's arm, but Jake interrupted, sounding equally furious now.  _

_ “Stupid, huh?” _

_ “Yeah,” Michael said, standing his ground and glaring at Jake.  _

_ “Well, diabetes is just a stupid thing, isn’t it?” Jake said. “I mean, only fat people get it because they eat too much crap like th—” _

_ Jake was cut off by Michael’s fist colliding with his face. It was a rather clumsy punch, considering Michael had never punched anyone before, but the intention was there. Jake reeled back, staring in shock for a moment, before gathering himself up. He rubbed his chin forcefully and then threw a punch right back at Michael. It quickly turned into a strange sort of fist fight, which mostly consisting of Michael staggering around and missing Jake’s face, while Jake hit Michael every time. Jeremy tried to pull Michael away, but was accidentally hit by Jake, only provoking Michael even more. It was over relatively quickly after that, as the band teacher intervened and sent all three boys to the principal’s office.  _

* * *

“I’m sorry bout that, Jer,” Jake said sincerely. “I was just really stupid.”

“Yeah you were,” Michael muttered, but Jeremy smiled. 

“It’s all forgiven, Jake. You didn’t know any better. I mean, if I hadn’t gotten diabetes in the first place, I probably wouldn’t have known either.”

“ _ And _ I’m really sorry about punching you, Michael,” Jake added.

“I mean, I hit you first,” Michael pointed out. 

“But you literally missed me every other time and I was  _ ruthless _ ,” Jake laughed, rubbing the back of his neck with embarrassment. “You looked like shit afterward.”

“I had a bleeding lip and a black eye, it wasn’t  _ that  _ bad,” Michael said with a laugh, “but I forgive you, Jake. Sorry about punching you too. Just, uh, please don’t fight me in the future. You have a  _ mean  _ punch, man.”

“Noted,” Jake laughed. “But wait, back to diabetes,” he added, “why were you squeezing the blood out of your finger earlier?”

“It’s called doing my blood sugar,” Jeremy said. “Uh, I learned all this stuff when I was twelve, so I apologize for it not being super scientific or whatever, but basically, before I eat food, I have to check my blood sugar because there’s a specific range I want to be in. Um, example!” Jeremy held up his PDM for them to see. It still read the number six point eight. “This was my blood sugar just now. I’m supposed to be between four and, uh, eight I think? Anything above eight is considered to be a high blood sugar, which I’m supposed to avoid, and anything under four is a low blood sugar, which I’m also supposed to avoid. Plus being high and low feel like crap.”

“How do you avoid being high or low?” Jenna asked. 

“Well, that’s where this comes into play,” Jeremy said, showing off his omnipod. “Like I said earlier, this is called an Omnipod and it’s a brand of insulin pump. I fill this with insulin and then use this,” he gestured to his PDM, “to tell it how much insulin to give me. Insulin is what helps regulate the blood sugar. Your guys’ bodies all create insulin naturally, but my body stopped, which, yeah, is why I got diabetes. Depending on what my blood sugar is and what I’m eating, that’s how much insulin I give myself. But, uh, that’s only to help with high blood sugars, since insulin is what makes the blood sugar go down. When I’m low I have to eat sugar, specifically—” Jeremy rummaged through his bag for a second before pulling out a small green cylinder “—these things.” He popped the lid off of the cylinder and dumped out a few large, green candies into his palm. “These are called Dex 4. They’re literally like giant smarties—pure sugar and incredibly disgusting.”

“Wait a second, smarties are delicious,” Brooke protested. 

“Imagine feeling like you’re dying and then you have to eat four things that have the same consistency as chalk,” Jeremy said in a deadpan. “I have to have  _ four  _ of them everytime I’m low, Brooke.  _ FOUR _ .”

“Jeremy’s always hated smarties and sweet tarts,” Michael said, nudging Jeremy playfully, “so having to eat the huge version everytime he feels like death? It’s probably the worst part of having diabetes for him.”

“It is!” Jeremy complained with a grin, putting the Dex 4 back in his backpack. “But it’s not like I’m just supposed to avoid being high and low because doctors say so, they also each give me awful-feeling symptoms.”

“Oh!” Michael exclaimed suddenly. “Jer, you should make sure that these guys know the symptoms like I do, so they can help you out if you’re high or low.”

“Good idea, Michael,” Jeremy said. “Uh, if you guys want, of course.”

“Of course, we want to!” Christine agreed emphatically. “You’re our  _ friend _ , Jeremy! We want to help you in any way we can!”

“It’s true,” Chloe said seriously, when Jeremy gave Christine a skeptical look. “Sure, we haven’t hung out much yet and most of us were jerks to you in the past, but now we’re friends whether you like it or not.”

Jeremy wasn’t sure how Chloe could make being friends sound threatening, yet he felt a strange comfort anyways. “Well, when my blood sugar is too high, I get really thirsty—like,  _ unrealistically  _ thirsty—and I get a really dry throat. Also, uh, kinda TMI, but since I get so thirsty and have such a dry throat, I naturally drink a lot of water, and so I need to go to the bathroom a  _ lot _ .” When everyone at the table, sans Jeremy and Michael, made disgusted noises or faces, he shrugged. “You wanted to know the symptoms! Anyways, a low blood sugar feels a million times worse and it’s really important that I treat it as soon as I can. Basically, when I’m low, I get  _ super _ shaky and this weird kinda-tired-kinda-hyper feeling? It might not sound that bad—I really don’t know a better way to explain the feeling—but it is honestly just the worst feeling _ ever _ .”

“And, as someone who knows from experience, Jeremy Heere is the worst diabetic ever,” Michael said with a smirk. “Okay, not the worst ever, but he will definitely go for a long time with a high blood sugar if he doesn’t want to do his blood sugar. Also, if he feels low and doesn’t want to do his blood sugar, he’ll just eat a ton of junk food.”

“Dude!”

“I’m just telling it like it is,” Michael said, still grinning coyly. “It’s our duty as good friends to force you to do your blood sugar even when you don’t feel like it. Plus, sometimes when you feel low, you’re not, so then you just end up having a really high blood sugar later.”

“Okay, but that’s not even fair,” Jeremy argued. “Sometimes randomly when I’m high I’ll feel low, or when I’m anxious I’ll feel low! Why does my own body have to deceive me?”

“That’s why you gotta do your blood sugar, dude.”

Jeremy shoved Michael lightly, but both boys were grinning. Jeremy glanced back to the rest of the table. “But, uh, yeah, I’m a diabetic! Thanks for listening to all my weird explanations, heh.”

“Jeremy?” Brooke asked in a strangely sad voice. 

“Uh, yeah?”

“Why didn’t you tell us earlier?” Brooke seemed a bit dejected. “I mean, I get the SQUIP wouldn’t let tell us before, but you’ve been back at school for two weeks and I thought we were actually pretty good friends...”

“Oh! No, Brooke, we’re definitely good friends!” Jeremy said hastily. “We all are! But I was just really worried about telling you guys at first... I mean, at first, none of you knew I existed, then you did, but I was a pretty awful person under the SQUIP’s influence, and then we were suddenly friends and it was just... It was just a lot? So I thought I’d wait a bit longer, make sure that you guys genuinely wanted to be friends even after everything I did... But I’m so glad you guys all did want to be friends and we can put the past behind us and I could feel safe enough to tell you guys that I had diabetes.” Jeremy smiled at her and at the rest of the group. “It was just a bit overwhelming at first. Like, I was honestly kinda scared that you’d never forgive me for the crap I put you through, Brooke...” 

“Yeah, you were an asshole,” Brooke hummed in agreement, “but don’t forget that we were all SQUIPed too during the play. I get how controlling it is and I get how little control you have. And we were only SQUIPed for, like, an hour maybe? You were for, like, two months! So putting all that into consideration, it made it much easier to forgive you.” She smiled brightly at him. “Plus you’re so sweet when you’re not under that pill’s control!”

Jeremy returned her smile and said, “Thanks, Brooke. I mean, thank all of you! I didn’t really deserve forgiveness or friendship and yet... you’re all still here.”

“Of course.” Chloe waved her hand dismissively. “It’s like Brooke said: you’re not such an asshole anymore.”

“Yeah dude! Plus, we were kinda assholes to you before too,” Jake said. “I’m glad you forgave  _ us _ .” He glanced around the table and added, “Well, me mostly.”

“Everything’s been forgiven! Now, I’m actually kinda hungry, lunch is almost over, and I need to bolus for this food,” Jeremy said with a laugh. He started to input numbers into his PDM and it let out a beep, clicking steadily. 

“What do you do to bolus?” Jenna asked, seeming to be genuinely curious. 

“Well, first I do my blood sugar,” Jeremy said, “and then I put in the number of carbs I’m about to eat. After that, this thing calculates the amount of insulin I need and I just hit a button and it gives it to me. Thank goodness for that too, I don’t think I’d be able to calculate it myself.” He let out a laugh. 

“How do you know how many carbs are in food?” Jake asked. 

“Well, if the food has a package, like, uh, a chocolate bar, for example, it'll list the amount of carbs in the nutritional information. If I'm at a restaurant, they'll usually have nutritional information on their website. Anything like this?” He gestured to his lunch tray, which had an apple, a sandwich, and a bottle of water. “I'm either googling it or guessing. Today I just guessed, since usually two slices of bread are around twenty-eight grams of carbs and an apple is maybe fifteen, depending on the weight.” 

“He's a lazy ass, so he guesses a  _ lot _ .”

“Michael!”

“Would different kinds of sandwiches be different amounts of carbs?” Christine asked. “Like, you've got PB&J, but Michael has pickle and cheese. Would it be different?”

“Nah,” Jeremy said with a shrug, “most ingredients in sandwiches aren't any carbs or they aren't enough to really care about. I think a pickle has, like, one carb? Peanut butter and jelly have carbs if you have enough of it, but a sandwich worth isn't really enough to count. Cheese is nothing, like I can eat as much cheese as I want. It's the bread where the carbs really are. Like, whole wheat versus white bread would be different.”

“One time, Jer and I tried to come up with a meal that didn't have any carbs in it,” Michael added with a laugh. “We were twelve. We had no clue how to cook. It didn't turn out well.”

* * *

_ “Operation No Carbs starts now!” Michael announced with a colourful grin. He slid across the kitchen floor in his mismatched socks and flung open every cupboard he could reach. “What foods don't have carbs?” _

_ “Uh, I'm pretty eggs don't have any? Most vegetables don't have any, cheese doesn't have any...” Jeremy listed, counting on his fingers. “Meat definitely doesn't have any!” _

_ “We could make an Egg McMuffin!” Michael said excitedly.  _

_ “But bread has loads of carbs,” Jeremy pointed out.  _

_ “Uh, an Egg McMuffin without the muffin,” Michael giggled. “I mean, that's just eggs and meat and cheese!” _

_ “Sure,” Jeremy laughed. _

_ “Really?” Michael grinned. “Let's do it!” _

_ “Wait, one problem,” Jeremy said. “My parents aren't home and I don't know how to cook.” _

_ “Me either,” Michael said, “but I've watched my mom cook loads of times. It can't be  _ that  _ hard.” _

_ Michael soon found out that it was very hard.  _

_ He and Jeremy had broken four eggs before they ended up getting one in the pan. They both pretended not to notice that there were several eggshells in the mix. Then they realized there wasn't any lunch meat in the fridge like they thought there was and the only cheese they had was packets of processed cheese. While they had been searching through the contents of the fridge, their single egg had burned and set off the smoke alarm. They weren't sure how to turn off the alarm, so they simply turned off the stove and retreated outside.  _

_ And that's how Mr. and Mrs. Heere returned to find the two boys sitting on the front lawn, casually munching on processed cheese, with sheepish grins on their faces.  _

* * *

“Oh gosh, I remember that,” Jeremy laughed.

“We did end up making some pretty gnarly eggs a few years later though,” Michael grinned.

All of a sudden, the bell rang and the group began to gather themselves up to head for their next class. Jeremy quickly shoved the last bit of his sandwich into his mouth and pulled his sweater back on. Chloe and Brooke had already disappeared, Jenna was helped Jake with his crutches again, and Michael was waiting for Jeremy to gather himself. Before he could run off to his next class, Christine caught his hand. 

“Jeremy.” She smiled softly at him. “Thank you for telling us.”

“Thank you for listening,” he said appreciatively. He watched her skip off to class and sighed with contentment. 

“Come on, Jer, we have to go!”

“Yeah... Yeah, I'm coming.” He took one last glance towards where Christine had been and then followed Michael to their next class. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> That idea of Michael punching Jake? I got that idea from a real kid I met once. I went to this diabetes group and one kid told a story of how his best friend punched someone because they were making diabetes jokes XD I totally thought that Jake would be the type of person to make diabetes jokes and so I incorporated the idea lol (I also mixed it with my own, less eventful experience, where in grade eight we had a band party and the grade twelves who were holding the doors open for us (??? idk why they were but) were saying "free diabetes! get your free diabetes in here!" and it made me so mad (but I didn't have any friends at my school in grade eight, so I was the only one who cared lol))
> 
> Also uhhh yes Jeremy is still pining after Christine but idk if I'll write any relationships into this fic, but feel free to give me your opinions, like do you want Jeremy to date anybody? If so, who? Christine or Michael or someone else? I am a servant to the people lol
> 
> also uh yes I totally think Michael would listen to the Jackson 5, like I Want You Back is a jam
> 
> Anyways I hope you enjoyed this chapter? It wasn't great but the next one will be better I promise! Kudos and reviews make my day so :)


	3. The Smartphone Hour (Jeremy Still Has Diabetes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy visits Rich in the hospital. The Squip Squad are too awkward to ask Jeremy questions about diabetes, so they ask Michael. Brooke takes Jeremy out for frozen yogurt so they can talk. 
> 
> ((this chapter has a lot of texting so get ready for that lol))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn Jayce, back at it again with another chapter! Sorry for the wait—I've been binge-watching The Mentalist (again)(one of my favourite shows EVER it's so good please fangirl with me if you also watch it)
> 
> This chapter is just fun and silly—friends texting and talking kind of seriously but also just having fun. When Rich and Brooke are texting Jeremy, it's just the generic texting app; when it's the group texting, it's a facebook messenger group chat, like how my friends and I communicate XD we've had some weird chat names lol (mall santas, JAKE PAUL CULT (from Alyssa's Jake Paul phase—giving us all Team 10 related nicknames. I am glad that phase of her life is over XD), wE nEeD To sLeEP (complete with Spongebob photo), etc) and yes Michael is 100% that friend who gives everyone a nickname lol there's always one XD 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy this one, it's just supposed to be fun :)

**Unknown**

Hey, uh, Jeremy

**Me**

?????

**Unknown**

Oh! Uh, it's Rich

Your dad gave me your number when you were still out because he thought we were friends

And now we kinda are?

Wait I mean, idk

ARE we friends?

I mean, I'm asking in a “I kinda hope so” way not a “I hope he doesn't think we are" way

**Me**

oh uh hey rich

yeah were friends definitely

uh how are you feeling?

**Rich**

Uh yeah

That's why I texted?

I was wondering if you’d come visit me today after school

I need someone to talk to

Like irl

And I didn't really know who else to ask?????

It's stupid I know

You don't have to come

**Me**

ill be there rich :)

got nothing else to do today anyways

**Rich**

:)

Thanks tall-ass

* * *

Rich’s face lit up when Jeremy arrived. “Jeremy!”

“Uh, hey, Rich,” Jeremy said, hesitantly sitting on the bed beside Rich’s—now vacant since Jeremy had been released. “So, you wanted to talk?”

“Yeah, I just, uh, well my dad’s not great, and I’m not even sure if Jake still wants to be friends after everything I did, and I just needed to talk to someone who’s not a doctor,” Rich said, glancing away for a moment. “It’s stupid, I know, I just... feel really lonely here.”

“That’s not stupid, Rich,” Jeremy reassured him quickly, leaning forwards. “I get it. Oh, uh, also you should try talking to Jake again. I have a feeling that he’ll forgive you.” Rich gave Jeremy a dubious look. “Really! He and the others are all weirdly understanding of the SQUIP stuff.” Then he added, “But! You don’t need to think about that now, if you don’t want to. We can just talk. Just you and me. About anything.”

Rich smiled softly. “Thanks, Jeremy... So, uh, how’s school been?”

“It’s been good, I’ve gotten a bit better at math and it’s nice to have more friends. Oh, also! I finally told everyone that I have type one,” Jeremy said excitedly. During his day in the hospital, after he and Michael had done their best to explain diabetes to Rich, he had encouraged Jeremy to tell the others. (Well, he had said “ _You better fucking tell everyone else, Jeremy! This is some important shit!_ ” and Jeremy had figured that was as good encouragement as any.)

“And?” Rich asked. “How’d they take it?”

“Really well,” Jeremy said. “After the initial, customary, ' _oh my gosh are you gonna die?_ ’ ‘ _but you're not fat!_ ’ comments, they all seemed really interested in learning about it. They had loads of questions, but they were just as supportive as you were.”

“I knew they would be!” Rich grinned. “Those guys... They act tough, but they're not that bad really.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy agreed, returning the grin. “Uh, when do you think they'll let you out?”

“Dunno. I mean, my burns are pretty bad, hence the full fucking body cast, but it's not like I'm _that_ bad...” Jeremy gave him a dubious look and he added, “Honestly! I feel fine. But I'm no medical professional, so I s’pose I'm not exactly one to judge.”

“Hopefully you get out soon,” Jeremy said. “It'd be nice to have you back at school again. Especially now that you won't punch me in the balls or write 'boyf’ on my backpack in sharpie.” He eyed Rich suspiciously. “You won't still do that, right?”

“Oh, I can promise I won't, I only did that stuff because my SQUIP told me to anyway.”

“Thank goodness.”

Rich laughed and then waggled his eyebrows suggestively, saying, “Okay, but tell me about _Christine_...”

Jeremy groaned. “Why does _everyone_ keep asking me that? Even my _dad_ asked! I—shut up! Stop laughing!” Jeremy huffed, crossing his arms, but couldn't help smile a bit. “But, if you _must_ know, no progress has been made. Since my SQUIP is gone, my usual anxiety is back, and yeah, we're pretty close friends now, but telling someone you _like them_ is still a pretty nerve-wracking thing, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it, like since my SQUIP’s been gone, I've—” Rich suddenly cut himself off. Jeremy glanced at him quizzically. He looked nervous, but he mumbled, “Ah, my, uh, my depression’s come back.”

“Oh.” Jeremy stayed quiet for a moment—after all, there was no handbook on how to address your friend's clinical depression. “Uh, well, I don't know exactly what to say, but we're friends now, Rich, like, _actual friends_ , and I care about you, so, uh, text me anytime.”

“Thanks, Jeremy,” Rich sighed. “But, I mean, I'm fine, let's not linger on such a depressing topic. Oh, hey, _depressing_ , ha!” Jeremy groaned and Rich laughed. Then he shot Jeremy a genuine smile. “Anyways, tell me about your life, tall-ass. I want to hear about it.”

* * *

During the week that Jeremy had announced his diabetes to the world (or rather, six extra people), Michael found himself bombarded with questions about it. It didn't seem logical, that Michael—the one who _didn't_ have the chronic disease—would be questioned so heavily as opposed to Jeremy—the one who _did_ have the chronic disease—yet here he was. Multiple times a day, someone from the Squip Squad would corner him, asking about some aspect of the disease. When he would retort about how they should be asking _Jeremy_ , not him, they would always say that they were too embarrassed to ask. So finally, after being tired of getting constantly pulled away from Jeremy to have questions asked of him, Michael created a group chat with the Squad, sans Jeremy.

**michaels t1d faq bc ur all PLEBS**

_Michael Mell set his own nickname to fucking diabetes guru apparently_

_fucking diabetes guru apparently set Jake Dillinger's nickname to no legs_

_fucking diabetes guru apparently set Jenna Rolan’s nickname to apple product placement_

_fucking diabetes guru apparently set Brooke Lohst's nickname to menchies_

_fucking diabetes guru apparently set Christine Canigula's nickname to christy creme_

_fucking diabetes guru apparently set Chloe Valentine’s nickname to not milk_

**fucking diabetes guru apparently**

ask away plebs

**menchies**

wtf is menchies

**no legs**

brooke... youve never been to menchies????

**menchies**

no...

**no legs**

fUCK well were going later

its the best froyo place

its just UGH

YES

MICHAEL MELL

WE HAVE TO TAKE BROOKE TO MENCHIES

**fucking diabetes guru apparently**

uh wow brooke how can you like froyo and not go to menchies

**menchies**

ive never heard of the place before

cut me some fcking slackkkk

**not milk**

michael

**fucking diabetes guru apparently**

uh yeah???

**not milk**

wtf does this nickname mean

**fucking diabetes guru apparently**

“its not actually milk~” *eyes emoji**baby bottle emoji*

**not milk**

omG fuck u

**fucking diabetes guru apparently**

no thanks im gay

**not milk**

*middle finger emojis*

**apple product placement**

that was actually an amazing comeback tho

**fucking diabetes guru apparently**

k but r u guys gonna ask t1d stuff or not?????

**christy creme**

ooh i have a question uhhh (^ ^;)

sooooo when Jeremy got out of the hospital i gave him chocolates as a gift

and i recently realized that it may not have been the greatest idea since uhhh diabetes??

will it kill him??????

**fucking diabetes guru apparently**

nah

i mean

jer has no selfcontrol so it might

but not bc diabetes just bc he WILL eat it all in one day

he can eat anything long as he boluses

he loved it btw

he absolutely did eat it in one day

chocolates the secret to his heart chris

**christy creme**

okay good!!!!!

i mean i figured he was fine since hes seemed fine but i just wanted to be sure ^w^

**fucking diabetes guru apparently**

ur too good a person chris

**apple product placement**

question

howd he hide his diabetes from us so well?

we didnt even suspect anything until he told us

and now its hard to NOT notice

**fucking diabetes guru apparently**

because the fucking squip wasnt just making him HIDE his diabetes

he literally wasnt allowed to do any of his diabetes stuff at school

that motherfucker in his head would PUNISH him for literally taking care of himself

so he would just fucking feel like crap all the time at school just to “fit in” or whatever

then after the squip was gone he was still nervous so we just kinda,,, hid it for a while

hed do his blood sugar in the bathroom and keep his pod somewhere that wasnt super noticeable

so yeah

now hes just trying to not be scared to do his diabetes stuff

**no legs**

wow... thats actually so messed up

**not milk**

omg????

thats seriously terrible

**fucking diabetes guru apparently**

ur telling me

and i was the only person who knew and i couldn't even do anything to help

**apple product placement**

why couldnt u do anything?

**fucking diabetes guru apparently**

his squip literally blocked me out of his vision

i literally became fuckig invisible

and its not like i could just poke his finger for him

**menchies**

why didnt u just tell us he had diabetes???

he could see US

we couldve helped him

**fucking diabetes guru apparently**

first of all

i didnt think of that w o w

second of all

would any of u have believed me anyway??

**not milk**

not even a little bit

**no legs**

lol i would not have

sorry bro

**apple product placement**

nope

**christy creme**

aw probably not! TT^TT

**menchies**

true i wouldve thought it was some wierd attention ploy

**fucking diabetes guru apparently**

i rest my case

but u cant blame me for not thinking of it since also

literally all of u were practically strangers before recently

**christy creme**

aw i guess we were

im so glad we realized that you are actually awesome!!!!!

**fucking diabetes guru apparently**

CHRISTINE CANIGULA IS AN ANGEL ON EARTH

I REST MY CASE

**christy creme**

aw michael =^w^=

**not milk**

hello yes back to diabetes

so jeremy CAN eat anything

but there are things he SHOULDNT eat right

**fucking diabetes guru apparently**

yeah

liquid sugars and pure sugars are worse for him

like juice and pop and candy sans chocolate and etc

basically that sort of stuff will spike his bg super fast

so when his insulin starts to kick in hes already going lower

so then hes more likely to go low

but he CAN eat it

he just usually limits it

like thats why he prefers diet pop and only ever asks for a couple pieces of candy

**no legs**

whats bg????

**fucking diabetes guru apparently**

blood glucose

it works better as an acronym than blood sugar

**no legs**

oh lol yeah that makes sense

**menchies**

why???

oH WAIT

nvm i got it XD

**no legs**

“I was originally going to have the initials for babysitter but then I'd be going around with a big BS and you can understand why I couldn't do that.”

**fucking diabetes guru apparently**

Y E S

**not milk**

wtf jake

**no legs**

haVE YOU NOT SEEN THE INCREDIBLES

CHLOE WHST

MICHAEL MELL WE ARE TAKING BROOKE OUT FOR MENCHIES AND THEN HAVING A FUCKIHG MOVIE NIGHT

**fucking diabetes guru apparently**

sounds good to me

incredibles is my fav

**no legs**

i am so glad were friends now

we have so much in common

**apple product placement**

glad u boys r bonding but that isnt the point of this chat

**christy creme**

aw jenna the chat can just be for fun too! ^w^

**menchies**

i dont want to interrupt but

i do have another question

is froyo on that list of things that arent great for jer to eat???

**fucking diabetes guru apparently**

nah

well i mean its not great for him

but its not great for anyone so

**menchies**

froyo is completely healthy i dont know what ur talking about michael

**not milk**

ive seem what toppings u put on ur froyo brooke

**menchies**

idk what u mean *eyes emoji”

**not milk**

i will turn this into a brooke lohst callout post I am not afraid

**christy creme**

oh hey that rhymes! brooke lohst callout post ^m^

**apple product placement**

omg chris ur 2 cute

The conversation had slowly dissolved into aimless chatter and Michael found that he couldn't be happier. His first real group chat with a real group of friends. It felt good.

* * *

**Brooke**

heyyyy jeremy~!

**Me**

oh hey brooke

**Brooke**

so i was thinking you and i should go out for froyo sometime

i just wanted to talk :)

**Me**

uhhhh okay

**Brooke**

OH LOL WAIT THAT SOUNDED SCARY

its nothing serious or anything!

just wanted to hang for a bit :D

**Me**

cool :)

**Brooke**

i was originally thinking pinkberry but then michael and jake wanted me to go to this place menchies sometime so???

**Me**

oh yeah menchies is the best!

**Brooke**

lol why does everyone know about it but me???

but yeah lets go there :)

do u want a ride???

**Me**

♪ do you wanna go far ♪

yes please lol

**Brooke**

♪ do you wanna get inside my mother's car ♪

ill pick u up at 2???

**Me**

awesome :)

* * *

“You guys were right,” Brooke said, as she spooned another bite of frozen yogurt into her mouth, “this place _is_ pretty awesome.”

Jeremy hummed in agreement, poking at his rather ugly swirl of froyo absentmindedly. Brooke frowned at his nervousness. She reached over the table and hesitated, nearly grabbing his hand to reassure him. Instead, she gently poked his hand, with a playful—yet soft—smile.

“Hey, I know I made it sound scary, and I'll be honest, this topic _will_ be kinda serious, but I promise you have nothing to be worried about, ‘kay?”

Jeremy nodded, biting his cheek. It took him a moment to actually speak. “So, then... what did you want to talk about?”

Brooke let out a sad sort of sigh. “Uh, I just wanted to talk about, uh... I wanted to talk about how we dated for a bit.”

“Oh, Brooke, I am so s—”

“No,” Brooke interrupted, holding up a finger, “let me finish.” She fidgeted anxiously in her seat. “I _really_ liked you, Jeremy. Honestly, I still do. Even though I know that you like Christine and only dated me because your SQUIP told you to, I just... When we were actually dating, you were... You were so kind to me and, yeah, you had your asshole moments but you genuinely cared. Or, you seemed to.”

“I did, Brooke, I really did,” Jeremy said, leaning forward and locking eyes with her. “My SQUIP might have forced me to actually date you, but I care so much about you as a person and now as a friend. I... I can't say that I love you in that way, but I do love you. You're such an amazing friend to me.”

Brooke smiled softly, looking down at her hands. “You're an amazing friend too, Jeremy. I don't want to ever lose your friendship. I'll get over you eventually, I promise. I just wanted you to know. You _deserved_ to know.”

“Hey.” Jeremy hopped off the chair, standing up and gesturing for a hug. “To maintaining a healthy and amazing friendship?”

Brooke grinned, standing up as well. “To maintaining a healthy and _amazing_ friendship.”

They hugged tightly. Brooke felt herself melt into Jeremy's embrace. He was gentle and anxious in how he held her; she was firm and content. She squeezed him close and he touched her so faintly she could barely feel it. They were different and Brooke realized in that moment that she had too much to give while Jeremy wasn't at a place where he was ready to take any of it. Maybe one day they might have worked, but in this lifetime they might never be compatible. Brooke released him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, looking him in the eyes. In this lifetime, they were compatible for friendship and that was all she could really ask for.

As they sat back down and continued eating their food, Jeremy asked, “Okay, so Michael and Jake told me about their plan to have a Menchies and Incredibles day. I have to ask—did you just invite to Menchies specifically so that they wouldn't be the first to take you and you could crush their dreams?”

“Aw, Jeremy, you know me so well.” They laughed before Brooke suddenly scrutinized Jeremy harshly. “Wait, did you do your blood sugar before eating?”

“Aw dammit!” Jeremy reached down to unzip his bag and grab his blood glucometer. “I always forget.”

“I just saved your life,” Brooke sung playfully, smiling cheekily.

“Brooke Christ Superstar,” Jeremy replied, grinning as well as he began to assemble his needles. “Book of Brooke. Oh wait, no, it's the _Brooke_ of Mormon.”

Brooke laughed and added, “Do you have a moment to talk about our Lord and Savior, Brooke Lohst?”

The serious conversation had drowned into laughter and puns and both teenagers came out of that Menchies happier than when they entered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you enjoyed that!! It was just fun to write lol :) and yeah I think that the Squip Squad would be a bit anxious about asking Jeremy about diabetes stuff, maybe they wouldn't realistically, but this is all fictional and the groupchat section was completely meant to be a funny bonding session so yeah lol (also Rich wasn't in the groupchat because he wasn't back at school yet thus he wasn't cornering Michael at school to ask questions thus Michael didn't think to add him)
> 
> I also really wanted Jeremy to bond more with Rich and also Brooke because tbh Brooke seemed to genuinely really like Jeremy when they were dating so she'd probably be sad to find out it was all fake in a way (I kinda shipped her and Jer tbh like they were cute) so I just wanted them to address that. Also Michael and Jake are gonna become closer friends and yes the next chapter will include a Menchies-Incredibles sleepover ooh ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading guys! I know it's just a silly weird fic, but I honestly appreciate all the super sweet comments and kudos! So thank you <3


End file.
